Saturday
by AriadneF
Summary: The day starts out harmless enough, but a lot of things can happen in 24 hours. Update: Chapter 4 - Waves
1. Chapter 1

Note: Hi everyone. I've been so amazed by the talent of everyone posting their stories here! Thanks for sharing your gifts. I kinda got inspired to start writing too. *sheepish smile* This is my first fanfic...! Anyway, here goes... :)

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_Too fucking bright._

He brought his hand to his forehead, laying the flat of his palm across his eyes. He lay in that manner for a few minutes before turning to the clock on the nightstand.

_7:42 am. _

_Saturday._

_Gracie._

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked to the side as his vision cleared. The pile of laundry by the foot of the bed has gotten high enough to be visible from where he was sitting. In the corner, the sole table, a narrow desk with a cheap metal lamp, was littered with paperwork. In fact, as far as Danny can tell, clutter occupied all available surfaces in the studio apartment. He groaned as if seeing it all for the first time, dragging himself to his feet.

The path to the tiny bathroom was paved with dirty laundry, empty beer bottles and takeout containers. He grabbed as much as he could on the way.

But a cellphone ring pierced the air from underneath the blankets. Then in a half-asleep haze, Danny tried to do too many things at once. Just as he brought the phone to his ear, pressing the button that would make the shrill sound stop, his other hand reached down to swipe another shirt, his foot stepping on a piece of paper and slid out, causing him to drop the entire load from his arms and his bad knee collide into the corner of the bed. He collapsed to the floor in agony.

"#%^* *)*#* $#^% #%$ ^!"

"Good morning to you too."

"I'm busy, what do you want?" Danny winced to himself, cradling his knee to his chest.

"Busy? How can you be busy? It's Saturday."

"I'm supposed to pick up Gracie in half an hour and I've gotta clean and shit."

"You're bringing her _there_?"

Danny stopped rubbing his knee to throw his hand up. "What? You have a problem with where I live? What is it with you and your inability to keep your opinions to yourself?"

"Me and _my_ opinions?— Look, Danny, I'm just saying maybe you want to take her to the beach or something. Some place that's you know fun."

"You saying my place isn't fun? My place can be lots of fun. We do lots of fun things together when she's here."

"Yeah? Like?"

"Fun. Things. What, you going to tell me how I should be raising my kid next?" At this, he attempted to stand up but a sharp pain jolted through his leg. "Aghh, #$%^!"

"No— you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing." Danny shut his eyes waiting for the pain to subside. "I just hurt my knee again." He let out a long breath.

"That didn't sound like nothing. You need me to take you to the doctor to get that checked?"

"No it's okay it's fine. Gracie's waiting for me. I'm fine."

"Danny—"

"It's fine Steve. Listen I gotta finish cleaning here."

"You know why don't you and Grace stay at my place this weekend. You don't have to clean. There's plenty of room. To do your _fun_ _things_."

"I don't think so."

"Come on. You can watch movies, make popcorn. Play hide and seek. Or well, play hospital. I promise to leave you guys alone. You won't even know I'm there. That particular skill, they did teach us at SEAL school."

That earned a chuckle. Danny softened. "That's really generous of you Steve, but really you don't have to."

"I do. I want to. I'll be there in ten minutes. We'll pick her up right after."

Danny was about to respond but Steve had already hung up. He smiled to himself and started to get dressed.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the kind reviews, everyone! I'm so touched to have received such supportive feedback! *blush* I hadn't originally planned on continuing the story because I had no idea how the day would turn out. But then again, that's the fun of it, right? :) So here comes part 2 of what may be a very long day..._

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They had been on the road for ten minutes when Steve suddenly reached behind Danny's seat and passed him a large white box. He set it on Danny's lap without saying a word.

Danny raised an eyebrow as he slowly pulled up the top. He jerked in shock, his hands hovering over the box as if the contents were toxic.

"What is this?"

Steve leaned over, feigning a curious expression, then sat back. "They look like doughnuts."

Inside, lined in three rows of four was an assortment of filled and sugared, deep fried rounds.

"I can see that, genius. What are you doing with a box of doughnuts?"

"I thought you might be hungry. What? You on a diet now?"

"What. No. Why are you being nice all of a sudden?" Danny tilted his head to his side, squinting at his partner.

A flash of hurt crossed Steve's face, but he quickly covered it up with annoyance.

"I am nice. Maybe if you would stop being an ass all the time, you'd notice."

"_I'm_ being an ass?" Danny raised his voice in disbelief, dropping the lid to fold his fingers towards his chest. The same hands then gesticulated in the air to his left. "Who— who broke about a dozen laws yesterday to take down a single suspect, alone, in his shop? Who single-handedly cost us thirty grand in damages to government property, not to mention the reparations to that bastard's place? And _furthermore_, who do you think has to clean all that shit up? Where the hell did you go last night?"

"Look Danny I—"

"I was filling out paperwork, till midnight. Then the fucking things tried to kill me this morning." At this, he presented his knee, still throbbing a little. "I'd always known you'd be the death of me and what— what the fuck are you doing now?"

Steve's head was turning yet again to the back of the truck, his arm feeling for something on the back seat. A couple seconds later, he was pressing a paper bag against Danny's thigh.

"There's a water bottle in the glove compartment. You should probably take some now to give them time to kick in."

Danny glared at him as he turned the bag over and shook out the contents. A full bottle of ibuprofen.

He hesitated before saying anything and turned to his partner, but the SEAL was impassive, staring straight ahead at the traffic that was beginning to form. So instead Danny leaned his elbow on the window with his hand over his mouth, covering a wry smile. They slowed to a full stop behind a whole line of vehicles trying to get down the main street. Without the distraction of moving scenery, they sat in companionable silence which, of course, he was the first to break.

"What is this? Why are we stopped? It's eight in the fucking morning. Where is everyone going," Danny ranted, but his voice was softer now, lost its edge. "And what. The fuck. Is everyone looking at."

Outside, everyone seemed to be facing in one direction, craning their necks at something up ahead. A group of teenage girls standing next to their vehicle had cellphones in the air pointed towards the unknown target. Suddenly they shrieked in unison, piercing Danny's eardrums, as they shared their digital prizes with each other.

Danny scrunched his face in annoyance and turned his attention to the other people on the sidewalk. Everyone was still trying to get a good look at whoever or whatever was going on. Except one man. He stood in the alley next to the souvenir shop, shifting his weight from side to side. Danny kept watching, bored, as the man slowly stepped forward. And that's when he noticed it. At his side, the man had a gun drawn, and that hand was twitching. Danny's eyes flew up to the man's face and, to his surprise, it was staring right back at him, upper lip curled into a smirk. And the arm holding the gun was rising up.

"Hey—" He grabbed his Steve shoulder.

"Yeah I see him."

The group of girls burst running across his view and when they passed, the man was gone.

"Where'd he go?"

His headstrong partner had already unbuckled his seatbelt and leapt out of the truck. Danny, without missing a beat, slid over to take the wheel. At that exact moment, the car in front of them rolled forward, the obstacle ahead apparently cleared.

"Come on come on come on!" Danny hit his palm against the wheel.

When he finally reached the intersection, he took it, wheels squealing, and raced the truck down the side streets to meet Steve at the other end of the alley. He arrived just as his partner emerged, brows knotted and breathing heavily. He swiveled around looking up and down the street, while Danny did the same from where he sat. No sight of the armed man.

"Did he—" Steve started.

"He's gone." Danny shook his head.

"Did you get a good—"

"Yeah. I can run it through—"

"No I'll do it. You stay at the house with—"

"'kay. Now get in, Flash."

"Move over, sidekick."

"Har har."

Danny maneuvered himself back into the passenger's seat, carefully now, taking care not to jostle his leg. Steve resumed his position at the wheel and reached down to pick up the box of doughnuts where it fell, luckily remained shut. Danny this time accepted it with a small nod.

"Thanks," Danny murmured. "Awful lot of food here even for me."

"In case Grace was hungry too," Steve shrugged.

Danny dropped his head.

"I still hate you," he muttered.

"Just eat your doughnuts, Danno."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you again for reading! I hope you are enjoying these as much as I enjoyed writing them! I'm still trying to find my groove as it were, getting a style down and all. :)_

_Btw, I noticed on the last episode that Grace spelled "Dano" with one "n" on her card. So I'm going to go with single "n" when Grace says it and double "n" when Steve says it. So they each sort of have their own nicknames for Danny._

_-Ari_

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[0900]

_I'll head over to headquarters to see if we can find our guy in the system. You two make yourselves at home. I'll be back in an hour._

Steve dropped them off at the house, but not before they exchanged nods, Steve's checking if Danny was going to be alright, Danny's responding positively with gratitude.

Father and daughter found themselves in the middle of the McGarrett living room.

"So. What would you like to do, princess?"

Grace tilted her head up at him, looking adorable with powdered sugar on her chin. Danny smiled as he thumbed the sticky smudge away.

"Do you wanna see the new dance I learned in school?"

"Do I? You bet I do."

Grace ran to stand a few feet away while Danny got comfortable leaning against an armchair. Then she began a series of head bopping motions. She shimmied left and right, twirling her wrists and shaking her shoulders. All the while, she was humming softly to herself. It gave Danny the impression that what he was witnessing was a combination of a hula dance and hiphop. But watching her, Danny thought he had never seen anything so amazing in his life. At one point, Grace was spinning in a sort of pirouette. And that's when he glimpsed it.

"Hey. Hey what's that? Is that a bite?"

Danny marched forward and was at her side in an instant. He held his daughter by the shoulders and gently turned her to catch the sunlight. On her right upper arm was a reddish ring of what looked suspiciously like another child's teeth marks.

"Who did this to you?" His face darkened.

"Dylan."

"Dylan? Dylan who? From school?"

Grace nodded. "It's okay, Dano. It was just… a minor misunderstanding," she stated with all the seriousness an eight year old could muster.

Danny was incredulous. "A what? Who told you to say that? Does Mommy know about this?"

The little girl tried to squirm her arm away.

"Did you show—" He paused to regain his composure and lower his voice to a more reasonable level. "Did you show this to Step Stan? It that what he said this was?"

She shrugged, looking away.

Danny moved his head trying to catch her eye. "Gracie?"

"He said I shouldn't have made fun of Dylan's diorama. He said I hurt Dylan's feelings."

Danny exhaled through his nose. "I don't believe this."

He got to his feet, rubbing his hand on his mouth. As he turned, he pulled out his cellphone and began dialing.

"Who are you calling?" Grace jumped up after him, her voice breathless.

Danny pointed to the phone that he now pressed to his ear. "I'm calling your mother."

"No! Don't call mommy."

Danny paced with his hand on his hip, already formulating what he was going to say in his head.

"No Dano stoppp!"

"I can't Gracie. It's not right. If he's not going to do anything about it, I will. That kid _hurt_ you."

"My arm doesn't hurt anymore! I swear!"

But he already knew the moment he recognized the scar that he would stop at nothing to protect his little girl. No one, _no one_ will ever put her through any kind of pain, not on his watch.

"Dano please!" Her plea reached his ears, so full of desperation. "I don't want you and mommy to fight anymore!"

Danny looked back in surprise. His daughter stood there, her thin arms stiff at her sides, a mixture of expressions racing on her young face, a face that hadn't yet learned masks nor lies, and he saw alarm, sadness, helplessness and, to Danny's great shock, fear.

His heart lurched in his chest and he bit down on his lip, while the hand holding the phone slowly fell limp to his side. His ex-wife's voicemail message started as the phone flipped shut.

"Okay, baby. I won't tell mommy. I promise." He sighed and got down on his knees, forgetting at first then not even caring that it hurt to do so. "Come here, monkey."

Grace stepped forward and hugged him. Danny squeezed her tightly to him, wishing he could stay like this forever, his arms surrounding her like thick shields that would keep her safe always wherever she went. He placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"You know I'll always take care of you, right?" he whispered into her hair.

"I know, Dano," she mumbled into his shoulder.

And as he watched her pull away, he became all too painfully aware of how vulnerable she was, soft flesh and dainty limbs and beautiful shining eyes. And yet his blood. He shook his head to himself, wondering how he could _ever_ have thought leaving home for this island wasn't worth it.

She shifted shyly under his intense gaze so he formed his lips into a cheerful grin.

"Let's see that bite again," he beckoned her over.

Danny turned her arm carefully and traced the pink outline with his thumb. "Would you look at that. You know, you're right. It's practically healed. You're a tough cookie, my little monkey. Just like your daddy."

His girl giggled. And since he loved to hear her laugh, he went for her tummy next, fingers wiggling.


	4. Chapter 4

_Life consists of rare, isolated moments of the greatest significance, and_  
_of innumerably many intervals, during which at best the silhouettes of_  
_those moments hover about us._  
_– Friedrich Nietzsche_

_This quote is one of my favorites. :) I think I like things slowed down, to get a chance to see what an entire day would reveal, if each moment had an opportunity to unfold. Admittedly, the prospect of writing fast-paced plots makes me nervous. Maybe I'll get to practice that soon, if you'll put up with me...! Thank you for reading and for your feedback! Your kind words give me the strength to overcome the scariness of putting this stuff out there. - Ari_

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[1000]

His hair was sticking out at all angles like a blond palm frond, his forehead was feeling the threat of a burn, and he was pretty sure there was the equivalent of a bucket of sand in his shoes. And yet, Danny Williams found himself strangely at peace and, he was almost willing to admit, even a little cheerful.

Steve had returned to the house earlier with an uninteresting report about the gunman. Best they could do was put in a description, he said, circulate the sketch through the network, and see if he turns up again. Danny responded that he hoped that it wouldn't be today. Then when Steve suggested taking them to spend the day down by the beach shops, Grace lit up so beautifully, Danny immediately agreed.

They parked in a crowded lot at the end of the boardwalk. Tourists milled about taking pictures of the water, the trees, the colors, the locals. They ducked and maneuvered around them. At Grace's insistence, they walked on the other side of the handrail and on the sand. She and his partner opted to go barefoot, stopping every now and then to squeeze the warm grains between their toes, laughing. Danny sunk with every step, making soft sandy peaks of his own as they made their way across the beach.

Eventually, they turned inland towards a less occupied row of shops. On the sidewalk, a young tanned woman set up some chairs, a sign advertising "Face Painting" and a cardboard display of various designs. Grace picked out a violet orchid for her right cheek and was trying to keep as still as a doll while the artist carefully painted in the delicate petals. Danny and Steve stood side by side a few feet away leaning on a cafe wall.

Somewhere music was playing from a radio, an old swing tune, and to his surprise and delight, it didn't sound at all incongruous. A light breeze blew steadily across his face, cool and refreshing, smelling faintly of spray and sun.

"This isn't bad," Danny confessed, just as much to himself as to his companion. "It's actually nice."

Steve broke out into a wide grin.

"Don't ruin it, McGarrett."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"Good."

"Except maybe I told you so."

Danny swiveled his shoulders towards him, palms up, ready with a retort. But his phone started going off with a telltale ring and he rushed to silence it. He darted a quick glance at Grace. The artist was holding up a mirror to which his daughter presented the side of her face with an giddy smile.

"I've got to get this," Danny mouthed to Steve, shaking the phone in the air as he started walking towards the surf shop next door. He motioned with his eyes towards Grace. Steve nodded.

Danny brought the phone to his ear once he got into the air-conditioned enclave.

"Daniel, you called," his ex-wife greeted warily.

"It's nothing. Never mind."

"Alright," she drew the word out. "How is Grace?"

"Oh Grace, Grace is fine. She's having fun. We're having lots of fun."

Danny craned his neck out the shop window. Grace was pushing her hair around her ears to expose her cheek but her eyes were distracted by an ice cream cart across the way. McGarrett stood next to her, hands on hips, looking around casually, as if he weren't a guard on duty. She tilted her flower-adorned face up to catch Steve's attention. The SEAL blinked down at her, beamed brightly, and went back to staring at passersby. Danny rolled his eyes.

"That's good," Rachel intoned. "She's not still sore over being grounded then. Her friend Elizabeth invited her to a party this afternoon and we told her she couldn't go."

Danny watched as Grace tapped Steve's arm, saying something. The man squatted down to the girl's level. Steve's lips were pursed, brows knit, completing a most serious expression, as he concentrated on her speech. Realization broke out on his face at last with an "ohhh" followed by an embarrassed smile. The man began digging through his pockets as he walked her to the ice cream cart.

_Atta girl_, Danny grinned to himself.

"Party, huh? Is Dylan going to be there?" he asked absently, back to the phone.

"Who?"

"Because if he's there, there is seriously no way she's going anyway."

"What? For goodness sake, is this about the bite? It's already been handled."

"No, you don't understand. I need find that kid's parents and tell them to lock their little animal up or at least get shots," he fired in a rush. "They have to do something about that beast. I'm not going to sit back and do nothing."

"Do nothing?" she echoed. "God, Danny, what kind of mother do you think I am?"

"I wasn't implying anything," he shot back. Then quieter, "Not exactly."

Though at the back of his mind, he lamented their uncanny way of getting into an argument within minutes.

"I understand that you would do anything for Grace," she went on, her voice raising. "The difference between you and me, Dan, is that I don't need to be the hero."

"This isn't about me, Rachel," his voice getting louder to match hers.

"Stanley spoke to the boy's father. He says Dylan's been acting out since they moved here a month ago. He's seeing a therapist," she stated each sentence slowly, as if Danny were a child. "And regardless of what the boy did, Grace still needs to learn that her own behavior was unacceptable."

"The kid has a shrink? What kind of eight year old needs a shrink?"

She sighed loudly. "The kind whose father is too tied up with his work to spend time with his family."

There was a split second of silence as they both realized what had been said.

"Danny, I didn't mean—," she covered hurriedly.

"Gee, Rachel, if you're so concerned about Grace's relationship with her father," he took the phone from his ear to yell at it directly. "_M__aybe you shouldn't have taken her five thousand miles away from me! You ever think about how that would work out?_"

"Danny, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. We were talking about Dylan's dad. I'm just repeating what he said."

He shook his head, breathing hard through his nose. Over by the ice cream cart, Grace was saying something to Steve who listened with a silly smile plastered on his face. Danny shut his eyes, remembering his daughter's anguished plea for her parents not to fight.

"Danny, really, I didn't mean that about you."

"Okay," he exhaled, resigned.

"Okay?" Surprise.

"Yeah. Okay. I don't want us to argue anymore." It came out wistful and sad.

He heard rather than saw her nod. Then gentler she spoke, "She looks up to you, you know. Grace adores you. You're a good father. You don't need to prove it all the time."

Danny smiled wryly at that, knowing it must not have been easy for his ex-wife to share. "Thanks."

Afterwards, he stood in that shop between a postcard rack and a stand of leis, watching his partner and daughter still engrossed in a one-way conversation over matching ice cream cones, as he reevaluated his relationship with Rachel. The call followed their usual pattern, but it ended on a somewhat neutral tone this time, a good start.

When he returned, both Steve and Grace looked up simultaneously at his approach.

"Everything okay?" Steve asked.

Danny smoothed his daughter's hair as she devoured her ice cream and nodded. "Yeah everything's good."

"Good," Steve replied, turning back to survey the view.

Danny smiled down at Grace. "Can I have a taste of that?"

Steve's hand automatically swung out, tilting a chocolate ice cream cone towards him.

"Not you! Geez, McGarrett." Danny's head jerked back and he stuck his hands up in mock protection.

To which his partner look back and shrugged, smirking, "Suit yourself."

They stood there for some time, Danny, his girl and his friend, enjoying their treats and stories, as the Saturday morning crowds parted around them like water. Just beyond, the island's brilliant blue waves crashed softly upon the shore.


End file.
